I shuddered to find myself in the darkness.
I wasn't sure why it filled me with such dread.
There wasn't anything that I could see that appeared to be dangerous, yet my senses screamed for me to flee.
Perhaps it would be best for me to find a different place to be.
I looked around, spotting several pinpoints of light. All of them filled me with the same uneasiness. I decided it would be best to avoid them as well.
I found myself wandering through the darkness, keeping clear of the doorways of light as I went. I had no idea where I was going, I just knew that I couldn't stay where I was. I had no proper sense of direction—up or down, right or left, it all could change according to perspective. I also didn't seem to be bound by the rules of gravity, as there were times I simply floated when I grew tired of walking.
I wasn't certain how I could leave the darkness if I was also avoiding the light, but then something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.
It was difficult to describe, except to call it darker darkness.
A void in the darkness?
I altered my course, heading toward it.
It was shaped in the same way as the points of light, forming a sort of portal as I approached. However, the strange dark matter of it was difficult for my eyes to process. It was as if I couldn't focus on it properly.
I reached a hand toward it, wondering if it was tangible.
My fingers passed through it, just as they would through a ray of light. It had no feeling, no change in temperature, no energy. It was simply…there.
More importantly, it didn't make me feel scared.
It seemed like the best option when I was surrounded by things that filled me with inexplicable fear. I knew I couldn't stay where I was any longer.
I didn't question the potential foolishness of my decision. I walked into the doorway of darkness.
The transition between worlds appeared to be instantaneous, but the shift within me felt slow. I felt a weight being lifted out of me, even though I couldn't identify what it was.
The new world wasn't bright, but it seemed that way after all that time without proper light. I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the rosy colors of the (evening?) sky. I seemed to be in an open field, which set me at ease. It wasn't as difficult to watch for enemies while in the open.
I glanced down and was shocked to see that I had a body—arms, legs, torso, the whole ensemble.
(Yet, why would that be surprising? Hadn't I always had a body?)
I was dressed in dark green clothing that wrapped and flowed around me without any sort of proper logic. However, I found myself staring at my forearm, which was bare to my elbow. My skin was a light tan, dotted with occasional freckles.
Why did it look so strange to me?
It wasn't just my arms. All of my skin appeared to be that color. My hair was dark brown (too dark?), but I wasn't able to inspect any of my other features without a looking glass or still water.
My brow furrowed deeper.
Is this me?
I reasoned that it must be. After all, people didn't change bodies suddenly.
(Right?)
I looked down at my feet. I had thought that they were bare, but now I saw that I was wearing boots. The flowing clothes from before had changed into sensible work clothing but in the same shade of dark green. I nodded in satisfaction.
"I can travel like this."
My eyes widened at the sound of my voice.
Once again, I wasn't sure why I was surprised. Wasn't it normal to speak? I cleared my throat, wondering if perhaps I just hadn't spoken in a while.
I started walking, picking a direction at random. I could see some trees in the distance, so I instinctively went toward them. There were trees in other directions as well, but that was the way my body turned.
"It probably doesn't matter," I reasoned to myself. "I don't have a destination, so the path can be any I choose."
The air was warm, like late spring. Even though I'd guessed it was evening, the sun didn't appear to be setting. The amount of light seemed to be fixed indefinitely. I frowned at the sky as I walked, perplexed by the phenomena.
There were no trails through the tall grass, forcing me to wade into the field with no guide. I brushed my fingers over the plants as I passed, enjoying the sensation. It seemed like ages since I'd been able to feel the touch of grass.
(Had it?)
The smells that filled my nose were heavenly. The ground was moist as if it had recently rained, but not enough to make my boots sink into the dirt. The plants were fragrant from the shower, with each droplet of water acting as a spray of perfume.
Strangely, none of the moisture affected my clothing. I remained dry, even though I could feel the water on my hands.
As I drew closer to the trees, I realized that they were much larger than I thought. The trunks were as wide as a house, with the branches reaching high into the sky. I gaped as I approached them, touching the rough bark with awe.
"Beautiful," I whispered.
I'd heard stories of enormous trees (when?), but I'd never thought that I'd be able to see them with my own eyes.
There was a sense of reverence as I walked between the towering guardians of the forest. It seemed natural for everything to be quiet, so it took me a while to realize that things were quieter than they should be.
I couldn't hear insects or animals, not even the sound of the wind. The silence of the forest seemed absolute.
I slowed to a stop, suddenly feeling a cold sense of dread.
It didn't make sense when I paused to think about it. Quiet didn't always mean danger. Why was I so certain that something bad was about to happen? I searched my limited memory, trying to find what it was that made me assume that I was about to experience something horrifying.
I shook my head.
There was nothing to justify my abrupt anxiety, but I couldn't seem to make it go away. I backed up so I was leaning against the trunk of a tree, crouching down to make myself as small as possible. I scanned my surroundings, searching for anything that might be considered a threat.
Nothing.
I couldn't see anything, I couldn't hear anything.
Logically, that should've set me at ease, but it didn't. I continued to huddle among the roots of the forest giant, hugging myself to keep from shaking.
My breathing was erratic despite my efforts to stabilize it. "Nothing's gone wrong so far," I reminded myself in a whisper.
I wasn't comforted by my words.
I don't know how long I waited there, but time didn't seem to affect me. I didn't feel hunger or fatigue, so the passing hours were meaningless. I was frozen by fear and indecision, although I couldn't explain to myself why.
The thing that jolted me back to reality was a high-pitched howl in the distance.
My heart jumped to my throat, stuttering a rhythm that made me lightheaded. My eyes darted around, looking for the source of the sound, but it seemed to have come from too far away.
I hadn't expected to hear anything, so the slightest noise would've startled me. The rush of adrenaline gave me the strength that I needed to overcome the paralysis gripping me.
The cry came again.
It wasn't the howl of a hunter, but rather of prey. It reflected the same fear that I felt in my core. It was the primal sound of pain and terror that came when a life was in peril.
I was familiar with that cry.
I had made that cry.
I couldn't remember when, but I knew that I had.
It was an instinctual sound, but it was made without the hope of being answered. The response to hearing it was equally visceral.
I wanted to run—to save myself. If there was danger, I wanted to be far from it. I'd died too many times to want to risk it again.
(Had I?)
And yet…
And yet…
I couldn't help but wonder if I wouldn't be afraid of the darkness if someone had run toward me instead of leaving me alone.
The howl sounded a third time.
I trembled as I got to my feet, clenching my hands into fists.
I didn't even know who they were…
(Did it matter?)
I started running before I could convince myself otherwise—running toward the call. Tears stung my eyes as the terror in my chest began to claw at my organs.
It's not as if I haven't died before, I told myself wryly.
As I drew closer, other sounds reached my ears—the snap of underbrush breaking, the thud of rocks flying, and a weird squelch that I couldn't explain.
I grabbed a discarded branch from the ground as I ran, hoping that it would serve as a makeshift weapon. It seemed sturdy enough, and not so dry that it would break.
I came to a narrow clearing, where the commotion seemed to be taking place. Whatever I had been expecting, it wasn't what met my eyes.
A dog had been pinned down, its leg trapped beneath a large rock. It struggled to escape, howling pitifully and snapping at its attacker.
The predator, however, wasn't anything I'd ever seen other than in a drawing from a book. It had a smooth, rounded head, a slimy-looking body, and eight long tentacles. I believed it was called an octopus.
It was enormous, though. Much bigger than what I believed to be normal. Each of its tentacles was thicker around than my entire body.
I lowered the branch that I held, jabbing it at the part of the creature nearest to me. I yelled as loud as I could, placing myself between the octopus and the dog.
The sea creature reached for me, its long tentacle aiming for my legs. I brought the branch down as hard as I could, hitting away the threat. Somehow, the scenario seemed familiar to me, although I couldn't figure out why.
Another tentacle came for me, except from above. I wouldn't have dodged it in time, had it not been for the warning bark of the dog.
I swung the branch in a wide circle, catching the jagged edge on the soft flesh of the octopus's limb. It retracted sharply but flicked out a different tentacle in a quick motion like a whip. I was hit in the torso and sent flying backward.
I landed on the ground with a thump, the air knocked out of me. The dog began barking louder as if it was angry on my behalf. I staggered to my feet, immediately looking where I'd dropped the tree branch.
The octopus was already moving toward me. The dog was no longer its target. I looked up at it just in time to see its form flicker for a fraction of a second. My eyes narrowed immediately.
It was a shape-shifter.
I picked up a rock and threw it with all of my strength. The creature absorbed the projectile as if it were made out of slime. There was a half-a-beat pause before the rock shot back out at me with alarming accuracy. I threw myself out of the way, skinning my knees as I hit the ground.
"Sticks and mud," I cursed, although I wasn't sure why I chose those particular words.
The tentacles came at me again, wrapping around my ankles. I kicked furiously, grabbing at whatever was within my reach to use as a weapon. I used rocks to scrape at the soft flesh and sticks to stab it repeatedly.
Eventually, it let me go, retreating reluctantly.
I scrambled to my feet, running to give myself some distance. I knew that the faux-octopus was only regrouping, so I wouldn't be safe for long.
I hurried over to where the dog was trapped under the small boulder. I worried that I would frighten him with my sudden approach, but he seemed to recognize me as a friend. He didn't growl or bark at me but watched me with his big black eyes.
I braced myself against the trunk of a nearby tree, using my feet to push the boulder off of the dog's leg. I knew that the dog would still need help, but I hoped that he would at least be able to escape if I died.
The monster was moving again.
I retrieved the tree branch that I'd used earlier, holding it like a spear. I'd never been trained on how to use any sort of weapon, but it was the best that I could do.
The tentacles snaked toward me faster than before. This time they were covered in thorn-like spikes. I tried to deflect them but did a poor job of it. The sharp points cut deeply into my arms and cheeks, drawing long lines of blood.
I reeled backward, disoriented. The initial sting of each laceration was cold, which confused my senses. I knew that I was hurt, but it was difficult for me to gauge how much. I planted my feet, readying myself for the next attack, but it didn't come. The faux-octopus continued to wait as if anticipating something.
Blood dripped onto the ground. Was it supposed to be that dark?
The pain was growing exponentially. It was as if fiery vines were growing within each of those cuts, spreading through my veins and burning me from within. My breathing grew labored. I could hear the dog barking behind me, but it sounded strange.
Were they changing into words?
Bark! Bark! Ba..gic! Seal it off!
I grasped my head with both hands, trying to still the dizziness of my vision. "It must have venom," I told myself as I backed away from the monster's reach.
The tentacles were reaching for me, but it was difficult for me to judge the distance. My eyes were getting a bit fuzzy. I raised the tree branch, swinging it a few times as a precaution.
Without warning, I saw a reddish blur launch across my sight. It attached to the nearest tentacle, causing the monster to screech in pain.
I rubbed my eyes, bringing them back into focus.
The dog had regained his footing and had joined the fight. He favored his injured leg, but his natural agility appeared to be enough to compensate. Even more surprising, I watched as the dog grew in size until he was roughly as large as a bear. His teeth were like tusks, while bat-like wings sprouted from his back.
The faux-octopus shrank as if the dog-bear had drained it of magic (which, he probably had). It was now closer to the size of an elephant, but the amount of spikes on its body increased. It looked more menacing, even though it was a more manageable girth.
The dog-bear barked at me, but it sounded somewhere between a roar and a bray. Yet, somewhere in the call, I was able to discern the words behind it.
Why are you just standing there? Use your magic to seal the venom!
My mouth dropped open. "I…I don't know how," I finally stammered.
The dog-bear rolled his eyes at me.
(The nerve!)
He spread his wings and launched into the air, drawing the ire of the monster after him. I watched as he spiraled through the tentacles that attempted to snatch at him. His injured back leg curled painfully under him as he flew, but the claws from his front paws raked at his enemy with every pass.
The faux-octopus screeched in fury, waving its limbs with increasing agitation. The dog-bear continued driving the monster back slowly, one step at a time. I lowered myself to the ground as I saw it happen. I couldn't believe that I had rushed to save this creature, but he was now the one saving me.
The sounds of the fights gradually grew softer as the monster retreated. I slumped in relief, allowing myself to focus on breathing. It was becoming difficult, so I was glad to give it more of my attention.
The venom continued to burn in my veins, filling my thoughts with fog and confusion.
Quiet returned to the forest and the dog-bear reappeared before me. He limped a little ways away from me, leaning over one of the tree roots. His body heaved several times, vomiting up a blackish substance.
Once the ichor left his body, he returned to his original form as a dog. I studied him as he hobbled over to me, trying to clear my thoughts from the muddled state brought on by the venom.
His coat was a reddish brown, with black tones around his nose and ears. He seemed to be made up of triangles (or were my thoughts just turning childish?)—triangle ears sitting upright on his head, a triangle face with a pointed muzzle, and wide shoulders with a narrow tail.
"Are you a shape-shifter, too?" I asked.
My words were starting to slur.
No, but I can borrow magic. If it comes from a dark creature like that one, though, it can make me sick.
I nodded. "Borrowing seems…helpful."
Are you really not going to heal yourself?
"I don't know how," I repeated.
The dog huffed, looking exasperated. You're a tree spirit. How can you not know how to use your own magic?
I started to answer, but my words were cut off by a hacking cough. My lungs were burning, feeling like they were on the verge of cracking. The blood on my arms was thick, but it still continued to ooze.
"I guess I'm going back to the darkness," I wheezed sadly.
The dog sniffed at me carefully. His black eyes met mine. Would you let me borrow your magic?
I frowned. "What?"
Give your magic to me and I can heal both of us.
A wave of nausea hit my stomach, causing me to curl up. I struggled to form a coherent sentence. "What if you don't give it back?"
The dog cocked his head to the side. Then the magic stays with me until it runs out and you are without magic until your body makes more. It's a temporary problem at most.
The crease on my forehead deepened. It didn't seem like a bad idea, but I was having a hard time making decisions at the moment. Should I trust the dog? Dogs were generally thought to be trustworthy, weren't they?
All of my earlier fear once again began bubbling to the surface, but I suppressed it. After all, I had faced the dangers of the forest, hadn't I? Not only that, but I had found an ally along the way.
I hadn't abandoned the dog, and the dog hadn't abandoned me.
We looked at each other, feeling a sudden sense of connection. Mere minutes before we had been strangers, but now I felt that our paths were intertwined. There was comfort in knowing that I wasn't alone.
The silence of the forest wasn't going to hurt me. It wasn't going to send me back to the darkness.
I let out a small sigh. "Alright," I agreed. "You can use my magic."